


Graveyard Love

by acetics



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/M, in terms of valduggery, mr Landy, we all know what you're up to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acetics/pseuds/acetics
Summary: A love more like that damned cat who will not live or die in its sleep.also: Valkyrie Cain/Nefarian Serpine seems to be a first tag and for that, we should probably all be grateful





	Graveyard Love

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back. Back again. Shady's back. Tell a friend.

The cigarette in his hand glowed a dim red in the dark bar. The smoke from it curled and hung heavy in the air around them. In the corner, a grimy bartender stood polishing glasses until they squeaked in the most obscene way. Valkyrie was there to drink, so she sipped her vodka and let the taste roll over her tongue and to her head. It sterilized her brain of flesh ripping and blood spurting and chilling laughter; her own. Emerald eyes of the man next to her demanded her attention, and she gave it to him. Lazily. Bored. Serpine took another drag on his cigarette.

  
"You know Valkyrie, you probably think I am the worst man alive, because this is what you have been taught to think. But a very wise man once said "Good and evil are so close as to be chained together in the soul" and honestly, it’s all about the face you choose to show the world. Isn’t it?"

 

* * *

 

Then, Darquesse had felt people. She had felt how their blood pumped and insides connected and minds scrambled in the seconds before she pulled them apart. A man’s scream almost blew her eardrum as she held him up. She felt hot blood slosh down her front when she punched clean through his ribcage to rip his heart out.  
Cool battlefield wind, pungent with decaying bodies and the sharp smell of fear tore through her hair and across her skin. She had made that, and it felt great.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie investigated how the ice clinked in her glass. "Very good. Go on."

Serpine sighed. "I am only telling you this because I - believe it or not - am in a unique position to do some good."

“And I am on the edge of my seat."

"Everyone knows it. And everyone thinks about it. But like a lot of things regarding our neighbourhood skeleton detective, everyone is too scared to say it."

“But I suspect you will. We thank you for your public service.”

"Do you know why Skulduggery is in love with you?"

 

* * *

 

 _“Me and Mrs. Jones._ ” A velvet voice rumbled from a shadowy corner in her bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie stared him dead in the eye. She had always known this, even though he had never said it. "No. Why. Enlighten me."

"Because, and you wouldn't know this. But most of us are old enough to, and I know better than most - you look so much like his dead wife."

She said nothing, so Serpine continued in his languorous, smirking way. “You can’t have thought it was you he loves, my love. So, tell me. What’s it like to fuck a skeleton?”

Valkyrie felt hot anger rise up her throat. “You had just better fucking watch it.” She murmured.

Serpine was grinning, getting closer, leaning into her. “A cold, hard...” He winked. She could feel his breath on her throat. “...dead man.”

The ice clacked in the glass as she began to tremble, hating that he could see and knowing that he loved it.

“Was it good? Was it good when he fucked you? I wonder what with. Hey, do you know his wife’s name? Maybe you’ve heard it whispered in your ear-“

“Stop it.” Valkyrie whispered, her voice hoarse.

“No really, I’m curious. And doesn’t it give you the creeps a little? He fathers you because you’re like his daughter until you grow up into his wife.”  
The drink in her hand shook so violently it began to spill. The bartender had retreated to the back room and other patrons quietly filed out. She set it down on the bar and clawed her hands on the wooden top. “Shut up.” Blue static crackled and danced around her fingers.

“Nobody says shit because, you know, it’s the skeleton detective. We all know how he gets when it comes to you. And I’ve got to wonder… where is he tonight?”

“I said shut your fucking-!”

 

* * *

 

 _“We got a thing going on.”_ The fire crackled into cold night air. The stars were bright and lifeless above. Two Dead Men kept watch, and they felt like the only men in the world.

“You should see the way he tears across the battlefield, when Valkyrie’s in trouble. It’s uncanny.” Dexter said to the flames.

“And bloody. There’s a reason he’s always there in the nick of time. And she is too. What a pair they make.” Ghastly replied. He looked towards her tent, and could see the slim outline of a tall man sitting up. “I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

The tent was too hot. She was too hot. Sweat made everything damp and her stomach burned. The sword has been a serrated thing, and it had tore across her front with deadly precision. Amid the chaos of fighting, Valkyrie had stumbled around for a few moments, trying to hold her guts in. She was vaguely surprised at the pain, the blood, her calm mind edged with utter panic. The attacker had stopped, taking inventory of the dying woman. In a flash, his leg was broken and his neck snapped and Skulduggery peeled Valkyrie from the ground, holding his gloved hand where hers had slipped away.

That night, Skulduggery had hunted every last member of the attacker’s group down. The Dead Men listened to agonised screams echo through the mountains as they went to bed. They pretended it was the wind.

 

* * *

 

The cigarette had long since gone out. Valkyrie released her hand around his throat. Serpine re-lit and with a surprisingly gentle touch, took Valkyrie by the hand and led her out of the bar.

 

* * *

 

 _“But it’s much too strong to let it go now.”_ Perhaps he thought that she didn’t listen, didn’t watch, didn’t notice the way his head turned and all the things he said. But she did, she had felt that deep bone ache in her spine that first night he had sung her to sleep. Felt it when he kissed her to bed. She felt it now as the morning light filtered into his kitchen and the kettle burbled to life and he looked at her, the guilt in his eyes. That brilliant mind tearing itself into blissful two. Lips pressing against teeth, sweat sinking into bone. He shouldn’t, he knew. But he had. He did. Everyone knew, anyway. Even if they were too afraid to say it, and he was proud of that. A clotheshorse embrace. She was so soft in the mornings.

 

* * *

 

Serpine's apartment was nice, Valkyrie reflected dully as she stood in his lounge room. Clean, modern. The man himself kissed her to his bedroom and under the warm red and cold blue glow of the city lights they undressed each other. The cold air caressed her skin, and she let Serpine’s colder hands all over her. Alcohol thrummed in her blood and made her head heavy. She was dimly aware, but also obsessed with how his warm mouth could touch hers and how surprisingly human he felt for a monster.

"And so the sun rises on two monsters sleeping peacefully." Valkyrie said the next morning, with the dry reminder of spirits in her mouth.

Serpine gave a throaty laugh, a strange sound. "It would be three if Skulduggery were here."

  
He clicked the lighter and drank in his first cigarette for the day. The midday sun persisted through the curtains and glinted off his red, red hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Stephen King says substance abuse is not the key to creative endeavor and he is probably right


End file.
